Sounds in the Air
by Marchling
Summary: Detroit may be a hard, violence-ridden place to live, but someone has to call the cops during a gunfight, right? Well, someone did, and the cops arrive in time to break up a fight that might still claim the life of Jack Mercer. AU - COMPLETE!
1. Ringing

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**Sounds in the Air**

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_**Summary:**__ Detroit may be a hard, violence-ridden place to live, but someone has to call the cops during a gunfight, right? Well, someone did, and the cops arrive in time to break up a fight that might still claim the life of Jack Mercer. _

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own the movie Four Brothers. I do not own the characters of the Mercer boys. I do, however, own common sense, which makes me question why these are necessary. Does anyone think they've found John Singleton on FFN trying to right his Jack-killing wrongs? No? I didn't think so. _

_**Rating:**__ PG-13? Light R? Honestly, if you've seen the movie, you're safe with me. _

_**Chapter Count/Updates:**__ There are five chapters to the story, but I reserve the right to fiddle with things later on. They're all written, I just need to go back over them to edit. I think I'll end up posting something like once a week.

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**Chapter One: Ringing**

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Bobby Mercer had been through more fights than he'd ever bothered to count. He might be a screw up in nearly every conceivable way, but he had always been in his element during a fight. Knives, fists, guns… none of that mattered to him. His mind could wrap around his opponent's and clear out any background noise or his body's own pain – just to win.

Never before had he been in this situation. Glass and bits of brick rained down on him and the bullets were flying around him so loudly he was sure his ears were going to ring by the end.

He had done this before. He'd gone to prison for this before.

Still, he could barely focus on anything but Jack's frantic, choked cries for him. He wanted to rush over there, to stop the bleeding, to get Jack to safety – to do anything to keep the Mercers from losing anything more than they had already. He couldn't do any of it though, and with every second that Jack was laying, _dying,_ in the snow without Bobby, something inside of him was tensing tighter and tighter.

_Get a grip, Asshole. Jack needs you focused, he needs you to end this, he needs you to win._

Bobby shot out of the hole that had been made in the brick, forcibly focusing his mind on the stakes. Between the bullets and La Vida Loca's shrill screaming, he almost missed a sound he'd never thought he would be happy to hear.

_Sirens_

The cops, an ambulance – any official short of the Animal Control guy was more welcomed than they had ever been. "Hang on Jack!" Bobby screamed as he took precious seconds to glance back at Angel shooting out of the front window. Their eyes locked and Bobby could see the relief in Angel's eyes.

Bobby crawled forward, intent on getting a visual on Jack. The bullets were gradually stopping, as the remaining thugs that they'd not yet killed – _fucking bastards –_ heard the same sounds as Bobby and Angel and started heading to their van.

He refused to let them get away. If he couldn't kill the bastards that had hurt his little brother and shot up his mother's home, then he wanted to make sure that the cops could lock their asses away. He took aim at one of the van's tires and pulled the trigger.

_Click_

"Fuck!" Bobby quietly swore. Of course he'd run out of fucking bullets. The gunfire had almost completely faded as the cops' sirens got louder and he knew that the ones responsible were in their van.

It seemed almost like a joke when Jerry's family piece-of-shit van came out of nowhere, jumping over the snow covered curb to smash into the van trying to get away before the cops could get there. How often did answers to prayers include some Detroit version of a monster truck rally and, hopefully, severe injuries?

Bobby didn't think twice. He threw the gun aside and ran to Jack, barely bothering to turn his head to see Jeremiah getting out of his wrecked van without a scratch on him. Jack lay on his side in the snow, blood streaming out of the wound on his chest. Bobby dropped to his knees before his little brother. "Jack, Jackie, let me see."

Jack didn't say anything, his breathing already coming in painful sounding gasps and Bobby immediately knew that the bullet had somehow hit Jack's lung. Even though there looked to be blood coming down from Jack's hair, _like he needed a god-damned head wound on top of everything else_, Jack's eyes latched onto Bobby's and he pulled the hand that he'd had the presence of mind to clamp over his wound down to let Bobby see the rush of blood before his own hand covered his brother's wound. "Breathe, Jack, don't you dare fall asleep on me, you little fairy." Bobby said, not caring that his voice was shaking and that he was crying.

Blood started dribbling out of Jack's mouth as the cops pulled onto their street and Jerry collapsed into the snow next to them. Behind them, Bobby could hear Angel yelling for the ambulance to hurry.

"Bobby…" Jack gasped, more blood falling from his lips.

"Jerry, help me pull him up." Bobby commanded, trying to gently pull Jack forwards towards him. Jerry said nothing, tears streaming down his face too as he slid behind Jack while Bobby pulled.

Jack let out a strangled gasp, his face scrunching up in agony.

"Breathe Jack, you gotta breathe." Bobby pleaded.

Jack coughed, the wet sound making Bobby's heart beat faster. Jack was literally choking on his own blood. He hoped that sitting Jack up would help, but all the cough brought was yet more blood out of his little brother's mouth.

"Over here! Jack!" Angel yelled and Bobby heard, rather than saw, the EMT's suddenly surrounding them.

"Sir, please step back." One of the EMTs said, as if Bobby was going to leave Jack. Jerry, however, did as he was told, relinquishing his hold on Jack to let the other EMT move in.

Angel's hands pulled at Bobby. "Let them help him, Bobby. Get back."

Jack's eyes fluttered. "Jack!" Bobby barked and his brother's eyes snapped back open. "Stay awake. Don't you fucking die on me."

"Is his name Jack?" The EMT asked, "You need to give us room, sir."

Jerry nodded from above them. "He's Jack. He's our little brother, you have to help him."

"Is he allergic to anything?"

Bobby felt Angel's hands again, this time insistent, even as Jerry stood his ground to answer the EMTs' questions. He allowed Angel to pull him to his feet and a few shaky steps back from Jack, although their eyes never left their brother or the EMTs saying things to each other that made no sense to any one of them. Jerry staggered over to them. "Is he going to be okay?"

Neither of the EMTs said anything at first, trading grim looks. "We'll try our best." One finally said as they lifted Jack on the gurney.

"I'm coming." Bobby announced, stepping forward and out of Angel's grasp.

"We need room to work," The EMT said, pulling Jack away from them. Bobby could see that his brother's eyes were barely open, just slits leading to unfocused, pain-filled eyes.

"We'll follow." Jerry said loudly. Then, quietly to Bobby, he added, "They know how to save him better than us. Let them go."

"I'll drive you myself," Lt. Green said from behind them. "As soon as you answer a few questions."

Angel whirled around. "Are you fucking kidding me? Jack is going to the hospital and you wanna chit-chat?"

"I need to know what happened here." Green said, glancing at Bobby, who hadn't moved an inch since the doors to the ambulance closed. "Who fired the first bullet, Bobby?"

Bobby's jaw clenched. "Them," he said, watching the ambulance speed away, his little brother inside it. "They rang the doorbell, got Jack outside and shot him before we could do anything."

"They fired first?" Green repeated.

"You think I've got a habit having fucking shootouts at my house?" Bobby growled, turning around to face the other man.

Green held his hands in front of him, "I didn't say that. I don't think it either. I'm just getting things straight. Doorbell rang, Jack answered it, ran out…"

"And some asshole in a hockey mask shot him. Van pulled up and opened fire." Bobby finished as Sofi walked up, still crying, and put her arms around Angel.

"You don't know why they came? Who they work for?" Green asked.

"Victor Sweet" Jerry said, instantly.

Bobby turned to him, trying to glare. It was harder than it normally was. He was just that fucking relieved that Jerry and Angel were alive, it was hard to stay too mad.

Jerry didn't look bothered by Bobby's halfhearted glare. "Come on man. What's it matter?" He said, shooting his eyes between Bobby and Angel. He turned back to Green. "I didn't want to work with Sweet. I wanted to do things clean, turn Detroit around. I don't fucking care anymore. He had my mother killed, he might of ki-"

"Shut your fucking mouth, Jerry." Bobby ground out.

Jeremiah closed his eyes. "I ain't lying." He said, opening his eyes and fixing them on Green. "He's got people in his pocket all the way up to DC, Green. What are you gonna actually do about it?"

Green looked suddenly tense, as if he was piecing things together and didn't like the picture that was coming out. "I'll drive you to the hospital. This was self defense." He said, glancing at the bodies being zipped up in bags.

Bobby didn't turn away from the sight of his mother's lawn being defiled by the dead. He couldn't, not when he didn't regret a single bullet he fired or life he'd ended. They'd brought hell down onto his house and he'd given it right back.

_I don't care who dies, as long as it isn't Jack.

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_**Reviews are deeply appreciated. More Soon!  
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	2. Waiting

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Sounds in the Air

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_**Summary:**__ Detroit may be a hard, violence-ridden place to live, but someone has to call the cops during a gunfight, right? Well, someone did, and the cops arrive in time to break up a fight that might still claim the life of Jack Mercer. _

_**Thank you **__to every reviewer. You guys are awesome! _

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**Chapter Two: Waiting**

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The Mercer family was in no way unfamiliar with hospital waiting rooms. Angel and Jerry's teen years had coincided with much of Bobby's run as the 'Michigan Mauler' which meant that there had been a span of years that Evelyn was on first name basis with many of the ER nurses. That time had passed, but it made waiting to hear how their brother was no less easy.

Angel had long since decided that having been in hospitals for his dumbass brothers many times before just meant that his ass had better sitting endurance. It gave his patience no advantages.

Bobby wouldn't even sit. He wasn't really pacing either, just moving around the room restlessly, no matter how many times Sofi or Jerry asked him to sit. Angel let him be. If Bobby wanted to, he could be punching the walls out and starting in on him and Sofi, so if he was just going to glare a little and move around a lot, it didn't bother Angel.

They'd been waiting for hours. When they'd first arrived, Green had used his badge to get them an update on Jack, which earned him grudging gratitude. Jack had been brought in with the gunshot to his chest, which had nicked his lung. He'd also been hit three times in his legs, one graze in his left hip and a through-and-through to his left thigh. It was the hit to his right shin that they were concerned about, after the chest wound, of course. They were asked to sign papers giving the hospital permission to take Jack to surgery and Bobby did it.

No one had come to get them since then.

Jerry had tried to be positive about it, saying that each second no one said anything was another second that they knew Jack was alive. Bobby hadn't appreciated the sentiment, but Angel had. So long as no grim, blood covered doctor came through the doors, his brother was alive.

When, two hours after Jerry said that, a grim, blood covered doctor _did_ come through the doors and into the waiting room, Angel had felt his stomach sink to the ground. It was almost like the phone call he'd gotten from Bobby, who had been crying, saying that their mother was dead.

A nurse pointed them out, ending all possibilities that it was another unlucky bastard's family that this guy was coming to shatter. The doctor took a deep breath and worked his way over to them. All three of the brothers stood immediately and Sofi clutched his hand hard.

"You're Jack Mercer's family?" The man asked.

"We are." Bobby said and Angel nodded. They were used to the questions and the looks that they got when people heard the declaration and saw the skin colors. This guy just looked exhausted, he didn't even bother giving the token protest about 'real brothers' that they usually got.

"I'm Dr. Bowen," He introduced, "The surgeon for your brother."

"Is he dead?" Bobby asked, his face closed off. Beside Angel Sofi gasped.

Dr. Bowen looked mildly surprised at how blunt Bobby was. "No."

Jerry sank down in a chair, head in his hands, but Bobby didn't move. "But?" He asked.

"But we lost him twice on the operating table, though we got him back." The doctor admitted.

"And you might lose him again." Bobby finished, as though he refused to see any good in Jack surviving this long.

Somberly, Dr. Bowen nodded. "Precisely. The next twenty-four hours are critical. Jack is on a ventilator, to allow his lungs the chance to heal from the bullet and the surgery. He's being kept in a medically-induced coma for the next few days to cut down on the chance he could wake up and fight the vent."

They all took a moment to take the gravity of that in. The word _coma_ kept repeating in Angel's head and he tried to push the words _medically-induced_ in front of it. If they put Jack in a coma, then they had to be able to get him back out, he reasoned. Still, the fear that Jack would be as lost to them as their mother was breathing down his neck like he had some sort of reaper behind him.

After another second, Bobby spoke again, asking the questions that Jerry and Angel were too spent and too scared to put to words. Sofi might be staring at Bobby like he was a heartless bastard, but his brothers knew better. "His legs?"

"We stitched up the graze and the thigh wound. He'll need to stay off his feet, obviously, but I foresee no problems there. They were very clean wounds." Dr. Bowen explained. "The hit to his right shin, however, was a little more problematic. The bullet missed tibia, but did tear some of his muscle. He'll need physical therapy to regain full use."

"But you think he _will_ regain full use?" asked Bobby.

The doctor tilted his head to the side in a way that said to Angel that he wanted to cover his ass in case Jack ended up with some awful limp. Still, all he said was, "Barring any complications, yes, I do think that."

"What are the chances he'll live?"

That was really what it all boiled down to. Physical therapy and coming out of his _medically-induced _coma were important, sure, but none of it meant a damn thing if Jack died before any of it became useful.

Dr. Bowen sighed and looked tired again. "You don't want percentages. Jack is young, strong and something tells me he's faced terrible situations and lived through them before."

Angel almost snorted. Clearly the Michigan state social workers' famed story of Evelyn Mercer and her four fucked up sons hadn't reached this dude yet.

"If Jack lives the night," The doctor said, "Then I think he'll make it. But you need to prepare yourselves for the fact that he might not."

They had been. They'd been preparing themselves for that all the hours they'd waited for this man to come out and tell them to wait and prepare some more. It was impossible, Angel decided, to just sit around and make peace with a world that didn't include Jack.

"Can we see him?" Jerry asked, speaking up finally.

"He's being moved to ICU soon. It's family-only up there, but yes, you can stay with him."

That was all they needed.

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"How long does it take to put a kid in a bed?" Angel griped, staring down the door to Jack's ICU room, willing the doctors and nurses to finish so they could go in.

"If he's on a ventilator and Lord knows what else?" Jerry asked, "A lot of time."

"They've had a lot of time." Angel countered.

"You better get used to a lot of sitting and waiting for Cracker Jack, Angel." Bobby said quietly.

Jerry grinned, though Angel could hardly figure out why. "When we get in there Bobby, maybe try to cut back on the homo jokes?"

A ghost of a grin appeared on Bobby's haggard face. "I wouldn't want to scare him." He said simply.

Angel laughed and it felt good. The three bantered back and forth for a few minutes, but when the door opened and all of them snapped to attention, it was clear that not even ripping on each other could take their minds far from Jack.

A few nurses and some too-young looking doctor filed out of Jack's room. One of the nurses, a king-faced woman who somehow reminded Angel of Evelyn, smiled at them. "He's resting now. There are a lot of wires, but you can touch him and talk to him so long as you're careful. Let him know you're here. It does more good than you might believe."

That sounded like permission to go in, and if it wasn't they were going to hang around and let her tell them different. All three rushed to the door, but Bobby got in first.

While Angel and Jerry were floored at the sight of Jack, Bobby wasn't. Or at least, he didn't act the way that they did. The two middle brothers stopped dead in the door, but Bobby moved forward until he was at Jack's side, his hand hovering over Jack's pale one.

There were more wires hooked into Jack than Angel had thought possible. He was hooked up to countless machines, each beeping or printing something out or whatever the hell they did that made sure that Jack was alive. He wasn't wearing a hospital gown, but the bandage on his chest made it look like he was. Jack had always been a white boy, but Angel had never seen him paler.

Slowly, Jerry walked forward until he was on the other side of Jack's bed. "Hey, little brother," He greeted quietly.

Angel still didn't move. "I didn't think he'd look like that."

"Like what?" Bobby asked, "Hurt? Young? Half-dead? Or is it this fucking rat's nest laying flat that's got you shocked?" He said as he ran his hand through Jack's hair.

Angel laughed, but it sounded wrong. "Yeah." He said, agreeing to all of it. Where the sight of Jack stopped Angel dead, it did the opposite to Jerry. He didn't look at Bobby, but Angel knew just from the way he shifted his weight and tensed his shoulders that things were about to get dicey.

"I said it before and I'll say it now." Jeremiah said, voice tight. "Ma would be the first to forgive. She wouldn't want vengeance, especially not if it cost us Jack."

Bobby didn't look up from Jack's still face. "Stop it, Jerry."

"No, you stop it Bobby." Jerry countered immediately. "You're the only one who can."

Bobby looked up then, rage clearly stirring inside of him. Angel stepped forward. "Don't do this now. Neither of you." He said, making sure he looked at both of them so they couldn't turn his words on the other - _important brother strategy._

"Angel's right." Bobby said. "Jack doesn't need this."

Jerry and Angel traded glances. Bobby hadn't said anything about Jerry being right. It was still too soon to push it. No matter what happened with them and Sweet, it wasn't important. Not when Jack was laying in a hospital bed maybe-dying.

Bobby paid them no attention. "Jack," He whispered, leaning in. "Jack, you're going to be okay. I'm here, Jerry's here, Angel's here. I think I saw a male nurse walkin' around. I'll snag him for ya Jackie, you know I will. We can even get you La Vida Loca if you want."

Jerry snorted, but Angel was too tired to rise to the bait. He was just lucky that he'd sent Sofi home once they headed up to the ICU.

"I love you, Jack." Bobby continued. "That's all that matters right now. We're here and we're going to make sure you stay here too."

Angel turned away from Bobby's little pep talk to Jack. He could imagine that there were quite a few gangbangers and cops who'd be shocked to see Bobby Mercer talking so softly to anything he didn't want to fuck, but Jack didn't need any macho bullshit, he just needed _them_.

Bobby kept talking and Jack kept breathing. _That_ was all that mattered.

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_**More coming… Reviews are love.**_


	3. Seeing is Believing

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**Sounds in the Air**

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_**Summary:**__ Detroit may be a hard, violence-ridden place to live, but someone has to call the cops during a gunfight, right? Well, someone did, and the cops arrive in time to break up a fight that might still claim the life of Jack Mercer. _

_***Note*:**__ I made up any and all information with the Senator. I remember in the movie there being the implication/mention of Sweet having ties to Washington, so I wanted to cover that as well. I imagine no one here cares more about the legal stuff than the Jack stuff, though, so I gave myself permission to wing it. I hope it flows okay. _

_**A HUGE thank you to all of the reviewers. **__You guys are (almost?) as awesome as Jack's hair. *winks*

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**Chapter Three: **Seeing is Believing

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"Victor Sweet was arrested last night, along with more people than we'd thought would be involved with a power-mad jackass like him." Green said, sighing heavily. "Cops, some judges, a few officials in land permits and stuff like that. They've even got some charges on the Senator. The FBI has taken over the case."

The three took that in. Jerry leaned back in his chair next to Jack's bed and ran his hand down his face. He couldn't believe that Sweet had gone down. Guys like that, with that much power over fucking _everything_? It had seemed like he'd be untouchable forever. He and Camille had been talking about getting out of Detroit, even though they'd both always lived there and believe whole-heartedly that it could be saved. Now? He wasn't so sure that leaving was the way to go, especially since his brothers were finally home.

They'd been in the hospital with Jack for four days. Camille and Sofi had shown up on day two, begging them to take things in shifts. The brothers weren't having it. They all stayed, leaving only long enough to shower and run to the cafeteria, though Angel and Bobby had sent him home to see his girls for a few hours the day before. Still, they were stronger together, they always had been, and they weren't going to take that strength away from Jack now that he needed it the most.

Especially considering that the doctor had begun to lower his dosage of the medication that was keeping him asleep. All three had been eagerly watching Jack for any sign that he was going to wake up, but it had been over sixteen hours since the doctor had promised Jack would begin to show signs of consciousness and they were all growing more and more desperate by the minute.

Jerry glanced over a Jack and saw the same thing that he'd seen for the last four days. His little brother, all of eight years old again, newly adopted and terrified. It had taken everything Evelyn had to break her son out of the abuse inflicted prison he'd built up in his own mind to separate himself from the pain. It had taken everything his brothers had to make him feel safe around them, to laugh and to just _live_.

It _couldn't_ be for nothing. Jack hadn't survived his hell in foster care just to die ten years later. Jerry turned away, feeling his throat start to close up. He willed his brothers to ask Green for more information, because if he opened his mouth, it wouldn't be to speak.

Angel seemed to hear him and stared hard at Green, "What are the chances that he gets out of this somehow?"

"Zero," Green immediately answered, "Senator Michaels might not go down, but they'll nail everyone up to him just to make an example. You know how that shit goes."

"He should get the death penalty." Bobby said, glancing at Jack.

Green followed Bobby's eyes for the first time. He'd grown up with the older Mercers, but he knew Jack too. Hell, he'd arrested Jack when the kid had been fifteen and he had been a rookie. Jerry appreciated the way that Green's eyes softened when he really looked at Jack for the first time. Even at their home after the shooting, Green had looked like he'd been genuinely sad to see the kid lying in the snow, bleeding in his brothers' arms.

Glancing between Jack and Bobby, it was clear that he could see how Bobby could want Victor Sweet's blood, but that wasn't going to happen. "He won't, most likely. Don't ask for more trouble, Bobby."

"He asked for trouble first." Bobby quietly asserted.

Jerry jumped out of the chair. "You got anything else to tell us, Green?" He asked.

Green shook his head and looked grateful as Jerry led him to the door.

"Got any reason why you just rushed him out the door? Or was that cop smell buggin' you too?" Bobby asked, but his eyes showed that it wasn't a joke.

"You know exactly why I want Green gone. I don't want to hear you start in on revenge." Jerry returned angrily. They'd been dancing around the initial conversation since the first time they'd been let into Jack's room. Between them, Angel watched the brothers closely.

Bobby leaned back in his chair, one hand still in Jack's. "When have we ever let someone walk away from hurting one of our own?"

"This ain't a teenage brawl, Bobby!" Jerry said. He didn't sit back down, he couldn't. This wasn't a civilized conversation, this was one brother begging another to do the right thing. Not for the first time, Jerry wondered if Bobby would ever jump to something other than violence. Once, he'd even decided that the abuse that Bobby'd been dealt, before Evelyn, had ruined him, but the second he'd had the thought he'd hated himself. If there was one thing that Evelyn had made them believe, it was that their pasts didn't dominate them, didn't control their futures. Maybe Bobby had always been destined to be one intense motherfucker.

"No, this is the most important enemy we've ever had. He's the strongest, and he's taken the most from us." Bobby retorted. "He goes to jail, fine. He can be some guy's bitch, great."

"And if he gets off?" Angel asked, speaking for the first time.

Jerry couldn't take it. Angel starred at Bobby as if his answer would set their path. "Then you take Jack and get the fuck out of Detroit." He answered, before Bobby could.

"Run away?" Bobby asked, eyebrow raised.

"Be smart." Jerry countered, "Heal Jack, find love, raise kids, honor Mom for real… _Live_."

Bobby yanked his hand out of Jack's and clenched his fists. "You wanna talk about honoring Mom? You, the asshole who wouldn't even bang on some doors to find out who killed her?"

"It's never just bangin' on doors with you, Bobby!" Jerry almost yelled. Even in the most serious fight he'd had with Bobby in years, he was mindful of the fact that if they raised their voices, they'd get kicked out of Jack's room. "It's always one more step, going just a little further and further, until there's suddenly guns and we've got to shoot back."

"Isn't Ma worth that?" Bobby questioned, standing up. When he stood, Angel did too, tense and ready to step in if either brother made a move around Jack's bed.

Jerry made a move almost like he was going to punch a wall. He wished he could, or at least bash Bobby's head against it. "Don't you play that fucking game, Bobby."

"What game?"

"You're like a head game. You play it with Angel too. With Jack!" Jerry said, gesturing to their little brother, who slept on even though his brothers had spent the last day eyeing him for any sign that he could be coming back to them. "Saying things about how we owe her to look into it, pulling on their hearts because yours is hurtin'."

"Don't you talk about what I feel for Mom or for Jack and Angel." Bobby growled. "We'd all be dead without her, there isn't a thing wrong with making the ones that took her pay for it, avenging her."

"There is it you get Jack killed doing it!" Jerry yelled, "Tell me Bobby, if Sweet gets off you gonna go after him again? 'Cause Angel's still breathing on his own, maybe you want to get him shot up in Ma's name too!"

"_Excuse me!" _

The nurse opened the door to Jack's room with a scandalized expression. The minute she interrupted, Jerry felt the fight leave him. He turned to face the wall, unable to look at his brothers another second. Behind him, Angel addressed the nurse. "We're real sorry, ma'am. We were just having a disagreement, we won't shout again."

"If you do, I'll call security." The nurse threatened. The nursing staff had all been lenient with the Mercer brothers, knowing just a little of what had happened to them, but they knew that the sympathy wouldn't translate into free reign in the ICU ward.

"We understand ma'am, thank you." Angel said, and Jerry pictured him smiling at her. Angel could always be counted on to flirt his way out of a situation. Whatever he did worked, because the door closed and they could all hear her walking away. How could they not, when there was no noise in the room other than the steady beep that told them that Jack was still alive?

For several long moments, no one spoke. Finally, Jerry pulled in a shuddering breath and turned to face Bobby and Angel. Bobby was looking at the ceiling and Angel was looking at Bobby.

"I didn't meant it." Jerry whispered. "I know you'd never want anything to hurt Jack."

Bobby didn't say anything still, but he sat back down and picked Jack's hand up.

"We're all wrung out, sitting here waiting for Jack to wake up. I'm sorry, Bobby. I didn't mean it." Jerry repeated.

"You did." Bobby said, pulling his eyes away from Jack to look at Jerry. His eyes looked watery and Jerry felt a stab of guilt in his gut for saying anything that could make Bobby cry. "But that's okay."

Jerry felt his face fall, "No, it's not."

Shrugging, Bobby said, "Jack wouldn't have gotten into this on his own." He glanced at Angel, who still stood tense, "Angel might'a, but you've always been better at talking him down than me."

"I'm less of a dumbass." Angel quipped, almost hesitantly.

None of them laughed, but Bobby might have smiled. "I want him to pay." He admitted.

"He will." Jeremiah promised, staring at the brother he loved. "Why does death have to be the only punishment?"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. We all know where we stand." Bobby said with finality, again. Something about being an older brother gave him some sort of gavel he could magically slam down and the others would follow his wish.

Jerry didn't want to, but he also didn't want to blurt out something else that would possibly change things between them. He wasn't sure if what he'd already said had done that. He didn't need to talk about Sweet anymore, but there was still something he had to know. "We good, Bobby?"

"You're my brother." Bobby returned, locking eyes with him. That was all he needed to say.

Angel cursed, "What about me, man?"

Jerry quietly chuckled, "What about you, jarhead?"

"You just implied that all I do is follow Bobby's ass around." Angel griped.

"No, you follow Loca's ass around." Bobby said, "Fucking idiot."

Angel looked like he wanted to shove Bobby, but didn't dare for fear of the nurse returning. "Man…"

"Shut up, Angel. I know it, Loca knows it, Loca's mami knows it, Jacqueline here knows it." Bobby said, gesturing to Jack, who would have been pissed if he were actually, _finally, _conscious.

Jerry shook his head at them. Camille had observed many a Mercer fight before loudly asking Evelyn if they were always at each other's throats one minute and teasing the next. Evelyn had responded, _I won't complain if they can't stay mad at each other long, except towards the end of hockey season. Sweetheart, never go to a hockey game with more than two of them or Bobby at all._

God, he missed his mother. She'd talk sense into Bobby, she'd know what to say to wake Jack up. Every moment that she'd been their mother, it had seemed like she could do no wrong, that she always knew what to do. He envied her. At least, he reasoned, he there would be no way he'd come up short in an argument with Amelia and Daniela. No way could his sweet girls be more pigheaded than Uncle Bobby, even if they took after Camille.

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Between the even beeping of the machine hooked to Jack's pulse and Bobby's soft but rhythmic snoring, Jerry was sure he was going insane. Angel had reluctantly left for a chance of clothes and a shower about an hour earlier, while Bobby had settled in the chair opposite his to sleep. Jerry couldn't though, not after what had been said earlier.

He hoped Bobby wouldn't hold it against him, but he knew that it had torn at Bobby's heart a little.

"What do you think, Jack?" Jerry said quietly, talking to Jack's still form. The doctors had encouraged talking to him and so the brothers had done it without fuss. If Jerry knew the magic words to wake Jack up, he'd say them a thousand times, but he didn't and Jack kept sleeping, even though the doctors said he should have woken up. _Be patient, _they said at first. _We have no reason to believe that something is wrong yet_, they said later on. Now they were shooing Jack's brothers from his side for longer periods of time to check him out and Jerry could tell that they were getting concerned.

Jerry was too, but that wasn't anything new. "You need to wake up now, Jack." He said, running his hand through Jack's hair. "We're at each other's throats out here, we need you."

Not that Jack had ever been loads of help in breaking fights up. He didn't really like violence, although he'd long since learned that his older brothers meant each other no real harm. "You probably hated that, didn't you?" He asked, remembering a younger Jack's foolproof tactic, accidentally discovered, for getting his brothers to stop when he sometimes couldn't take the arguing. He'd just shut down right in front of them, or go upstairs to get away. Jerry had always marveled at how quickly a simple action from Jack could turn their attention so drastically – but then, Jack had always had them wrapped around his little finger, though Jerry would never put that to words in front of Bobby (or Jack).

Jerry scrubbed his hand over his eyes. "Tell me what you're holdin' out for, Jackie, 'cause I'll do it, get it for you, say it, whatever. I just want you awake. It's safe to wake up, Jack."

He leaned in close to Jack and whispered, _"Please…"

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_**More to come! Let me know what you thought about this chapter, please!**_


	4. Breathe

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**Sounds in the Air**

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_**Summary:**__ Detroit may be a hard, violence-ridden place to live, but someone has to call the cops during a gunfight, right? Well, someone did, and the cops arrive in time to break up a fight that might still claim the life of Jack Mercer. _

_**Thanks for all of the reviews, you guys make my week, seriously. **_

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**Chapter Four: **Breathe

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Bobby kept his attention split between Jerry's conversation in the hall with Camille and Angel's recount of his army exploits for Jack. Angel's was more interesting, sure, but there was always something wonderful about hearing one of his brothers try to sweet talk a woman and fail miserably.

He had absolutely no problems with Camille. They all got along as best as anyone could probably hope for considering she was a respectable lady and her husband's brothers were, well, _them_. He appreciated that she was concerned for Jack, but understood why she didn't want Jerry spending all of his time at the hospital.

Still, Jeremiah was determined to stay with Jack, at least until he woke up and Bobby wasn't going to pull him aside to convince him otherwise, even if he and Angel had sent him home to spend time with their nieces.

No matter how many hours of conversations went on around Jack, he didn't stir. It had been five days since he'd been shot and over a full day since the doctors had taken him off of what Angel called 'coma juice'.

Bobby had never been a patient man, even if he'd been the one to remind his brothers that Jack would need a long time to recover. They were all going insane, waiting for Jack to open his eyes.

"So there we are, in the middle of fuckin' nowhere, with some dude, a goat and a grenade launcher. Man you have never seen a General of the United States look like such a…"

Angel kept on, laughing at his own story and mixing it up with repeated mentions of Jack's name, as they'd been instructed.

Outside, Camille didn't seem to be making much headway. "What happens if Jack needs you all and you're too exhausted to do anything for him?"

"I seem to recall making the same damn argument to you in September when the girls had the flu. What'd you say? _Jeremiah Mercer, my babies need me, I can sleep later!"_ Jerry mimicked Camille's voice. "Well, Jack ain't my baby, and this sure as shit ain't a cold, but I think you hear my point."

Camille put her hands on her hips and Bobby quietly chucked, sliding down in his chair to watch as the show got better.

"_Jack?" _

Angel had said Jack's name over a hundred times in the last hour, but this was different. Bobby's head snapped back to Angel and Jack. "What happened?"

"He scrunched his nose up. I saw it man, I swear I did." Angel said, staring at Jack as if he was about to break out into a dance. "Yo Jerry!"

Bobby didn't pay attention to the others, his whole being focused on Jack. "Jack? Come on, Jackie. It's Bobby and Jerry and Angel. You're in the hospital, but you're going to be okay." He whispered intensely. "Open your eyes, Jack. Please."

Slowly, Jack's eyes fluttered open and lolled around, obviously out of it and confused. Bobby didn't care much either way, so long as they were open. "Hey, Jack." He greeted, voice choking up in a way he'd swear never happened later.

Behind them, Jerry whooped. "Don't fall asleep again, Jackie. I'm getting a doctor."

Angel gently messed up Jack's hair. "Good to see you again, Jack."

Camille merely beamed, leaving the moment for the brothers.

Jack's eyes scanned the room briefly before locking on Bobby. "Bobby…" He whispered when he seemed to realize who he was with. Bobby found himself profoundly grateful that they'd taken Jack of the ventilator the day before, just so he could hear real confirmation that Jack was still _Jack_.

"What's up with the Sleeping Beauty act, Cracker Jack?" Bobby teased.

Jack shifted in the bed, or tried to, at least. His eyes widened as he did, probably becoming aware of the pain for the first time. Angel immediately pushed a gentle but firm hand on Jack's shoulder to try and keep his still broken body still.

"Easy, Jack." Bobby said, putting his hand in Jack's and letting his little brother grip it to help with the pain he'd inadvertently awakened. "The doctor is coming, he'll give you some real good stuff, okay?"

"Bobby?" Jack repeated a little breathlessly.

"Don't talk, okay? Your lung got torn up a little." Bobby explained. Jack didn't seem to comprehend and let his eyes drift over to a grinning but obviously concerned Angel.

"Jerry is going to be right back, Jackie." Angel promised. "Doctor is probably going to give you something that'll put you right back under, as if we haven't been waiting for you this whole time."

"Whole time?" Jack asked, his voice barely a croak. Bobby wanted to give him water, but wasn't sure what the procedure on that was. The kid did have fuckin' holes in him, after all.

Luckily, he was spared both an answer and having to wonder about how to help Jack with the pain when Jerry showed up, doctor and nurses in tow.

Dr. Bowen smiled at Jack like they were old friends, even though the kid had no clue who he was. "I see you're awake at last, Jack. Your brothers were probably going to go mad if you didn't open your eyes soon." He greeted, not even joking. "I'm going to need them to step out for a second while we look things over." He let his eyes drift to Bobby, who completely admitted to being an asshole about leaving Jack for exams.

This time, he wasn't going to put off Jack getting some more pain meds. "Jack, we're going to be right outside…"

"No…" Jack said, holding tighter to Bobby's hand.

"It's okay, Jack." Jerry said, smiling at Jack as though there was nothing wrong in the world at all. "We won't go far."

Jack still looked upset, his eyes pleaded with Bobby to stay and dammit if Jack wasn't breaking Bobby's heart. "Jack, trust me. You're safe, we'll be right outside." Bobby whispered, leaning in close to Jack. "Trust me." He repeated.

It was a long moment before Jack nodded a little, his eyes still troubled and confused, but he was no longer tensely gripping Bobby's hand. He didn't say anything and neither did his brothers as they slowly backed out of the room. Bobby glared at the nurse that closed it, but she didn't seem to be taking him very seriously.

"I'm going to call the girls," Camille said, giving each of them a kiss on the cheek. Amelia and Daniela probably didn't need to be notified of Jack's consciousness immediately, but she was obviously using the excuse to give them a moment.

Angel, out of nowhere, pumped his fist in the air and yelled, "Fuck yeah!"

"Keep your voice down, man." Jerry half heartedly scolded.

Bobby grinned at them both, finally able to. He'd been so afraid for Jack… But now, with his boy awake, they could finally start to get him healed enough to go home. "That Sleepin' Beauty joke is going to happen a lot, just to warn you guys."

"Aw, lay off him." Jerry said, smacking Bobby on the shoulder and ducking when Bobby swung back. They were all grinning like fools, but none of them could bring themselves to care.

Jack was _awake_.

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Two hours later, after Jack's exam and the initial burst of drugs that had made Jack loopy wore off a little, they were finally able to talk, though Jack was still in a kind of a 'no worries' frame of mind, to put it mildly

"I can't wait to see your face when you see her, Jack." Jerry grinned, laughing. He was, of course, referring not to Camille or Sofi, but to the linebacker nurse that they joked was giving him sponge baths.

"Her?" Angel said with his eyebrow raised, "Try 'It' or maybe even 'Him', ya know?"

Jack smiled wide, but didn't dare laugh. He'd learned the hard way that it just wasn't worth it yet. "Shuddup," He told them, still a little breathless, "… _liars_…"

Bobby shook his head, "It's true, Jackie." He assured the younger. Really, the nurses had been good to them and Jack, but teasing his brother felt as close to home as they were going to get anytime soon.

It was probably something on his face that tipped Jack off. "Bobby?" He asked, a little hesitant.

Jerry shot him a look that roughly translated out into _What the fuck are you doing getting him nervous, quit being an ass_ and Angel silently seconded him.

"Yeah, Jackie?" Bobby drawled, leaning back into his chair as though he didn't have a care in the world.

Jack looked down at his hands as he twisted them around in his lap. "I know it was stupid."

Cocking an eyebrow, Bobby slid his hand into Jack's, keeping him from fidgeting much more. "You're always stupid, Jack, you're gonna have to be more specific."

Angel rolled his eyes, but Jack didn't seem to notice the insult. Bobby told himself it was because he was distracted, not because Jack got insulted by his older brother so much that he didn't pay him much mind anymore.

"Running out like that, just 'cause some little asshole threw a snowball at me." Jack said.

The brothers traded glances. _A snowball? Jack got shot over a fucking snowball?_

"So some kid rings the doorbell, throws a snowball at you and you ran out for like, revenge?" Jerry asked, sounding a little surprised. Why should he be though? Jack was barely twenty, he should be able to chase after some little shit and throw snowballs if that was what he wanted to do. He shouldn't have to worry about that little shit turning around and opening fire on him.

Jack didn't say anything, but the suddenly miserable look on his face said it all.

"It was a mistake, Jack." Bobby said evenly, not willing to let Jack worry about the past that long, especially when he was still so weak. "A stupid one, you're right, but still a mistake. Angel's made stupider ones."

Jack smiled a little, but he still looked pretty pathetic. Angel glared at Bobby, but it was only half-hearted. "Yeah, Jack. Bobby, the dickwad, is right. How you were supposed to know that he was going to attack you?"

"We were asking around about some guy willing to put a hit out on Mom, I should have know that it wouldn't take long for that to get back to him." Jack said. Of course it had to seem so reasonable _now_, when he was already shot and out of it on medication in a hospital they probably couldn't afford.

Bobby could easily sense the direction of Jack's thoughts. He smiled and held the back of Jack's head, forcing his younger brother to look at him. "Listen, Jackie, what's done is done. I don't want you obsessing over it. All you've got to worry about now is getting better and coming to terms with your homosexuality. That's it. Let us worry about the rest."

Angel rolled his eyes and Jerry groaned, but Jack didn't seem to mind (_must be some fuckin' awesome drugs…_). Later, they'd probably have to hash it out for real, but right then Jack's brothers and half-shut down brain concurred: leave it for later.

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Bobby was exhausted and that was the only reason why Jerry and Angel had won their argument. _Go home_ they said, _get some rest_. Yeah, as if his sleep was going to be any kind of peaceful. The house was in shambles, bullets and broken glass everywhere. It would take a hell of a clean-up crew to fix the thing. Bobby knew his way around a hammer and nails, but it was beyond him. He hoped Jerry wasn't going to get bitchy when most of Mom's life insurance money was going to go towards the house and Jack.

Angel, quoting Bobby's earlier insistence that he get some real rest, had insisted that he not return for at least five or six hours. It had been four, but no jarhead was going to keep him out.

Making his millionth circuit around the hospital to the ICU helped clear Bobby's head. The second that Jack had opened his eyes, he'd been so genuinely happy – the sort of happy that he'd been sure he hadn't felt in years… that he was sure he wouldn't feel again after their mother's death. Jack was still in a lot of pain, had some trouble breathing and was constantly under the influence of a shit-ton of drugs, but he was Jack and he was alive. That was all that mattered.

When Bobby opened the door to Jack's room, he tried to be as quiet as possible. If Jack was sleeping, he didn't want to wake his little brother up. The scene he opened the door to, however, made him forget that he was trying to be quiet. "What's wrong?"

Jerry was sitting at the head of the bed next to Jack, who had on an oxygen mask that hadn't been there before Bobby had left. Jerry was talking quietly to Jack, who seemed to be awake. Angel was sitting on Jack's other side, holding Jack's hand but otherwise leaving him to Jerry. When Bobby came in, Angel let Jack's hand go and stood to meet him at the door.

"His fever went kinda high and he started having trouble breathing." Angel explained, looking as tired as Bobby felt.

Bobby's eyes narrowed as he took in the oxygen mask, "They said his lungs were strong enough to be off the ventilator."

"They are, but I guess he just needs a little extra help." Angel said. He sounded like he was quoting a doctor and Bobby knew that he probably was.

Without another word to Angel, Bobby walked over to Jerry's side. His first brother was talking quietly to Jack, little jokes mixed in with a steady stream of encouragement and comfort. "Shove over, Jeremiah. Let a veteran handle this."

The words were maybe a little untrusting, but Bobby gripped Jerry's shoulder, letting him know that Bobby approved, but just wanted to be close to Jack for a bit. Jerry whispered something else to Jack and stood, but not without shoving Bobby for a second.

"_Asshole_,"

Bobby sent the barest of grins Jerry's way before sitting down in his seat. One good look at Jack and he had to use all of his control to keep even that tiny smile on his face. The kid's eyes were glassy and unfocused, like he wasn't really seeing anything and his face was flushed. Obviously, there was a reason Angel hadn't mentioned just how far his fever had climbed.

"Hey, Jack." Bobby said, getting in close to help Jack see him. He wasn't sure if it did anything, because Jack didn't seem to notice that he'd been pawned off to another brother. Not that it really mattered, but it would have been nice for Jack to notice that he was there or even that someone had moved in front of him.

Jack didn't answer, but Bobby didn't expect him to. "What, I go away for a few hours and you decide to punish me for it? Not cool, Jackie." The minute Bobby said it, he decided it was a bad idea. Jack was known for his intense guilt complex and the lasting legacy of Detroit's finest foster parents (_yeah fucking right_) left him with the belief that everything ever was his fault. It took a lot to get him out of that mindset, but Bobby knew he revert back at the first sign of stress, and their last few weeks had been nothing _but_ stress. Fuck, their entire lives were stress.

Before Jack could process what Bobby had said, _hopefully,_ he switched tracks and kept talking. "It's okay, Jack. You'll feel better soon." He said, laying a hand on Jack's forehead. He almost swore when he felt the intense heat coming off of him, but held it back. "I know you're hot, but it'll pass, Jack."

Bobby kept talking softly to a little brother who obviously didn't really get his words. Early on with Jack, Bobby had realized that a lot of the time it didn't matter what he said to his brother, but the tone of voice that he said it in. Now, it was definitely a useful lesson.

Time seemed to slow as the fever wracked Jack's already exhausted and injured body. By the time the fourth hour had passed, Bobby was getting hoarse (but no less willing) talking and Angel was sitting as close to the bed as he could get, running his hand through Jack's sweat-soaked hair. Jerry was in the hall, talking to the nurse and darting his eyes back to them every few seconds.

Jack interrupted Bobby's litany by whimpering, the sound cutting though his two brothers.

"Shh, Jack." Bobby said, trying to sound as soothing as possible. Mom and Jerry were way better suited to bedside vigils than Bobby, but he hadn't relinquished his spot since he'd gotten there. No way was he going to.

Jack wasn't having it, his eyes moved around the room listlessly before landing as close to Bobby has they'd gotten in a while. There was a strange shuffling sound under the mask and for one awful second Bobby thought that Jack was having trouble breathing even with the extra oxygen. _They _couldn't_ put him back on that fucking ventilator…_

"Tell us later, Jackie." Angel said and Bobby's eyes narrowed in on what Angel had noticed first: Jack's lips were moving. He was talking underneath the mask.

"Yeah, Jack, you need to keep that on." Bobby said, reaching up and grabbing Jack's limp hand when he made a move that looked like he was going to try to take the mask off. Like _that_ would have gone over well.

Almost frantically, Jack shook his head and tried to reach up again. Sighing, Bobby decided that letting him get upset was probably worse than a few seconds without the mask. If it seemed like Jack was gearing up to say a lot, for what would possibly be the first time ever, then Bobby would have to cut him off. "Okay, Cracker Jack. What's up? Thirsty?"

Gently, Bobby lifted the mask off of Jack's face. Jack whispered and, like some lame-ass sitcom, Bobby and Angel had to lean forward just to hear him.

"_Mom? Mom… please…" _

The second the words really registered in Bobby's brain, he reared back. He barely even noticed when Angel, hands suspiciously shaking, fixed the mask back on Jack's face. Jack's whispered request kept repeating in Bobby's head. If the situation wasn't what it was – Mom dead, Jack shot and sick, their home littered with bullets – Bobby probably could have made a joke about Jackie and his Mommy, but he couldn't do it now. He couldn't even speak.

Bobby kissed Jack's forehead and mumbled something that might have been words and might have been barely-intelligible swears and scraped the chair back. He went into the bathroom, shut the door and left Jack to Angel.

He didn't mean to, he didn't even realize it was coming, but the second the door was closed, Bobby could do little else but drop to his knees quickly or risk getting sick all over the ICU bathroom.

"Fuck, fuck…" Bobby whispered. "_Mom_,"

_I'll fix this… _Bobby thought, breathing heavily through being sick, _I don't know how, but I'll fix Jack and I'll fix Angel and Jerry and I'll fix the house. I'll fix me. I'm so sorry, Ma. _

_I swear._

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_Review are, as always, love!_


	5. Interlude:  Jack

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**Sounds in the Air**

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_**Summary:**__ Detroit may be a hard, violence-ridden place to live, but someone has to call the cops during a gunfight, right? Well, someone did, and the cops arrive in time to break up a fight that might still claim the life of Jack Mercer. _

_**Chapter Count – REVISED! : **__So I know that I said I thought there were going to be five chapters, and there still kind of are, but I realized around the time that I posted the second one that the jump between chapter four and five was a little too drastic and something needed to go in between. And so, here we have a little interlude. _

_Thanks to ALL of the reviewers and the people who have favorited/story alerted this!_

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**Interlude: **Jack

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Jack blinked open his eyes and sighed when he realized that instead of the quick nap he'd been planning on he'd been sleeping for hours. Sometimes his brothers tried to trick him when it happened, _but not even Bobby Mercer could make the sun stay up to pacify little Jackie_, he almost sneered.

He'd started physical therapy two days before and he fucking hated it. How could he not? Some way-too-positive _dude _(they couldn't have gotten him a girl? Even an annoyingly perky one would have been better) cheering him on while he tried, and still sometimes failed, to make his leg move the way he wanted it to. Even the one that didn't really need much help ached. Still, compared to the way his wounds used to burn and throb and make it hard to breathe, an ache was pretty welcome.

And fuck if his brothers weren't insufferably optimistic. They wanted to come to physical therapy with him, but there was no goddamned way he was letting that happen. Either they'd decide that completely ragging on him would somehow spur him to work harder and prove them wrong or they'd pity him worse than they already obviously did. Both options were equally shit-tastic.

That probably wasn't very fair to them, though. Jack's brothers had always been (embarrassingly) protective and (wonderfully/weirdly) good at dealing with him when he wasn't (in his opinion) his best. Now, even though he knew they were exhausted between the house and the hospital, they were still that way. At least one of them stayed with him all the time, even when he tried to say that he didn't need a babysitter. They, thus far, hadn't said a word about the 'early days that he cannot be held accountable for' (as he put it) where he _maybe_ cried _a little_ when the pain and fevers were really awful. He could barely remember any of that, but he had a really awful feeling that he'd been somewhere between fucking-pathetic and a-little-girl. His brothers, Bobby especially, could have really had a field day with that, but they hadn't – not even once.

More than once, Jack had tried to talk about what had happened. Not about Mom, he wasn't a masochist contrary to popular opinion, but about Victor Sweet or even the house. He was never one of those kids who had to deal with parents who patted them on the head and told them not to worry, in fact, for a while he was the kid who had to deal with bottles and fists _flying_ at his head, and maybe that was what made Angel, Jerry and Bobby's total unwillingness to just fucking _talk_ to him so frustrating.

Oh sure, they slipped him just enough info to keep him from exploding – _Sweet has been arrested, Jack, along with every motherfucker who did his dirty work _or _The house is coming along fine, fairy. Want us to re-paint your room pink while we're at it? –_ but that wasn't really enough. He was pretty sure that if he just started talking about the shooting, or anything really, they would listen but the general vibe of the family was 'don't worry, get better'. A week ago he was willing to go along with that but now, almost done with his hospital stay, he wanted more.

Still, he couldn't really be mad at them. He heard some of their hushed conversations (money woes, backlash fears, Jack's health, house setbacks…) and he saw the way that they looked at him sometimes. Jack knew them like the back of his hand, even though they'd had a strange two years where there was little contact between them. They had been genuinely scared for him and he hated that he'd made them feel that way.

So even though he was sitting next to Jerry, who hadn't noticed he was awake yet, and could probably try to pry some information out of him, he wouldn't. Jerry looked tired, but he didn't look like something awful was happening outside of Jack's little prison.

It really all boiled down to this: he was alive, his brothers were alive, none of them were in immediate danger, Jack's limp was getting better, he was almost out of the hospital and, as far as he knew, the house still had four sides and a roof.

That was more than enough.

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_Only one chapter left, folks! I hope having such a short little interlude didn't bother anyone. I won't make you wait the entire week for the next chapter, especially since it's been longer than a week since the last posting. I think sometime mid-week sounds good. I've started a new Four Brothers story, but it's in the very early stages so I don't know when (or if) it will be posted. As far as I know, however, it will be the background for any other story for the Mercers I write. _

_Reviews make my day and help shape how I write, so please drop me a line!  
_


	6. Homes, Hearts and All That Bullshit

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**Sounds in the Air**

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_**Summary:**__ Detroit may be a hard, violence-ridden place to live, but someone has to call the cops during a gunfight, right? Well, someone did, and the cops arrive in time to break up a fight that might still claim the life of Jack Mercer. _

_**Final Notes: **__Thank you a thousand times over for embracing this story the way all of you have. You guys make writing and posting a total joy. Here is our final chapter and I hope that everyone enjoys it. I'd love to hear everyone's thoughts on the story/chapter/Mercer family, so please do not be shy. If you're interested in more stories about the boys, let me know. _

_Again: __**Thank you!**_

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**Chapter Five: Home, Hearts and All That Bullshit**

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Bobby tried not to scowl when Jack elbowed Angel's helping hand out of the way as he got out of the car. Never mind that Jack was tired and his hand was shaking where he gripped his crutch. No, the kid had to do it all himself out of some sense of pride, as though they hadn't been holding his hand, giving him sips of water and moping his fucking brow for over three weeks now.

Okay, maybe it had been a couple weeks since any of that had been necessary. Still, the point was that they'd seen Jack at his worst and Bobby had no clue what the little fairy was suddenly so stubborn about. Whatever it was, he was going to have to get the fuck over it – there was no way that Jack was getting up the stairs to his room on his own. His leg wouldn't allow it and neither would his brothers.

Jack straightened, looked up and quietly gasped and it took Bobby a second to realize he wasn't about to go down, he was just reacting to the house. With a careful eye, he turned and looked at their home too. He, Angel, Jerry and a few of the guys they'd grown up with had done a pretty damned good job, he thought. All of the windows had needed replacing and most of the brickwork around the porch. Some spots had even needed new wood to replace what had been shot through. Add a fresh coat of paint and he could see why Jackie was impressed.

"We _told_ you we fixed the house," Angel drawled next to Jack, "Didn't believe us, Cracker Jack?"

"I believed you." Jack said, quietly. Bobby liked that.

Jack then started to slowly shuffle forward towards the house and again Bobby had to try to keep his mouth shut and let the kid realize he was going to still need their help – otherwise he was going to be a pissy little fairy.

Fuck, it was going to be a long morning.

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Three hours later and the Mercer brothers were exactly where they wanted to be: at home, in the living room, drinking beer (for those _not _on medication) and shouting at the hockey game on TV. It felt like home.

Sure, things weren't the same. They never would be. Mom was never going to be there with them for real, but Bobby still felt her all the time. It was a stupid, kind of wimpy thing to admit, but he wouldn't deny it if his brothers asked. He saw their Mother everywhere, he heard her in songs and he definitely sensed her in the house.

It had taken until around half-way though the renovation process before Bobby realized that he probably shouldn't put the house back to the way Mom had wanted it. She wasn't there and it felt kind of like he was building a shrine to a woman who was never coming back. There was a way to make it feel like home and feel like somewhere he could live on his own all at the same time. His brothers approved and, though them, he knew she approved too.

For one of the first times in Bobby's life, it felt like things were falling into place. The house was finished, Sweet's trial was coming to a close and there was no way he wasn't going down – rumors on the street were that if he _didn't _end up in jail, there were a number of people lining up to make sure he ended up somewhere less pleasant, the cops were off his back and he had his brothers with him. Jack still had a while to go before he was completely healed, but Bobby was going to make damned sure there were no setbacks.

He tried not to think about the fact that the first time in his life that things falling into place happened to be coinciding with the first time he let someone who'd done them unspeakable wrong just _go_. He knew that it wasn't as harsh as he was making it sound. He knew that he wasn't choosing to be weak, he was choosing life and his brothers. If that meant that letting Sweet fall prey to someone else's revenge? He could live with that… _this time…_

"_Bobby_?"

Bobby's eyes snapped to Jack. "What? Need something?"

"I need you to come back to earth," Jack laughed. "That ref just made a fucked-up call and you didn't even twitch."

His eyes cut back to the screen, but before he could ask about what he'd missed, Jerry laughed along with Jack. "Jackie, can't you see the man's having some deep thoughts?"

"Bobby? Deep thoughts?" Angel repeated, pretending to be disbelieving. As if Angel was one to talk, Bobby thought darkly.

"About what?" Jack asked.

"Taking a shit." Angel answered quickly.

"Beating you up, probably." Jack laughed, "Or he is now, at least."

Jerry kept grinning, clearly enjoying this new game. For all Bobby knew he'd meant to start it. "La Vida Loca, definitely."

"Doing her or killing her?" Jack asked, not without cause.

Angel threw one of their mother's remaining crocheted pillows at him. "Shut it, Jack."

"Yeah, Jackie," Bobby agreed, putting on a disgusted face. "Don't foul up your mouth saying shit like that. _Doing her, _fuck, do I look like I enjoy venereal diseases?"

Jack and Jerry practically howled when Angel stood up, "Hey man, do I talk about whatever skank you drag home?"

"Ahh, so we finally admit that Loca is a skank." Bobby grinned, knowing that wasn't what Angel meant at all.

Angel started to charge forward, but Jerry shot his leg out, caught him in the stomach and pushed him back into his seat. "Calm down, Angel. You know he's doin' it on purpose."

"So you wouldn't smash his face in if he said shit like that about Camille?" Angel scowled.

Jerry glanced sideways at Bobby. "I would, but he wouldn't."

Grinning, Bobby nodded, "Of course I wouldn't. Camille is a lady of class."

"With questionable taste in men." Jack piped up. "And quit pouting Angel."

"Yeah, Angel, do as your little sister says. She knows a thing or two about pouting." Bobby said, getting the dig in on Jack to even it up with Angel. Luckily, Jack just rolled his eyes and muttered something about predictability. Bobby let that slide. "And don't even think about bringing Loca here tonight to fuck loudly, just to piss me off. That trick is way old and we have to think about Jackie's beauty sleep, you know."

That was, of course, a real reminder covered in brotherly venom. It wouldn't be the first time that such revenge was taken out while their mother was away and Bobby wasn't going to put up with it now. Jack really did need to sleep and Bobby really didn't need to hear Loca in the throws of passion or however close to it Angel could get her.

"So what," Angel asked, "I can never bring her over here again?" He ruffled Jack's always messy hair, implying that Jack would need beauty rest until the end of time.

Jack elbowed Angel and his older brother let him without retaliation. Normally this sort of thing would have lead to a brawl on the ground by now, but the circumstances were a little different. Bobby was glad that Angel wasn't so mad that he'd forgotten.

With what was pretty much a pout, better than Angel's from before, Jack said, "Fuck you."

It was probably supposed to be threatening, but the room was already half-in the bag and the look on Jack's face was too much. All four of them, even Jack, took one look at each other and burst out laughing.

"You make it too easy, Cracker Jack." Bobby said, still cracking up.

Slowly, they managed to get a hold of themselves. Jerry, chuckling still, shook his head. "I missed this," He admitted, "I _will _miss this."

"Planning on moving, Jeremiah?" Bobby asked, letting his head fall back to look at Jerry with half-lidded eyes. He knew exactly what Jerry meant, but making things easy wasn't his style.

Jerry cocked an eyebrow at Bobby. He nodded his head in Angel's direction, "After the funeral, you were talking about signing back up." Then, a tilt in Jack's direction, "And your band." He looked at Bobby, "I don't even want to know about you."

All three sobered up pretty quickly. Hesitantly, Jack darted his eyes between all of them. Bobby and Angel, locked eyes and silently said the same thing.

"Well, ya know…" Bobby drawled, "I was thinking about sticking around. Just finished this house and all." He said, waving a hand around.

"Things are going good with Sofi. Why give that up for a bunch of women that look like dudes, right Bobby?" Angel asked, smiling.

Jerry looked between them, then at Jack who grinned and nodded along with his brothers. He didn't need Jack to explain that he felt roughly the same way. "So you're sticking around? All of you?"

Bobby didn't bother looking at Angel and Jack before he confirmed, "Yeah, I'm thinking we're staying."

Jack grinned, "God help Detroit."

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_It's done! My first chaptered Four Brothers story is over. Now that I've completed my requisite Jack-lives story, as all Four Brothers writers must, I can move on to other things. I've got some ideas, so keep on the look-out. _

**_And now, one last time, please leave me your thoughts in a lovely little review!_**


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